The Dog Fight

When I was born, we had a host of dogs.  We lived on a farm and shared our lives with pet dogs, hunting dogs, herding dogs… work dogs, and play dogs.  Our beagle had puppies on my fourth birthday, and I remember that with such excitement that it’s hard to believe over thirty years have passed since.  My family downsized over time, moving off of the farm and into a town, but the furry companions remained with us through the years.  My parents’ youngest dog, a toy poodle named Molly (pictured), is the same age as my daughter (8), and they used to play together in the crib.  There’s no question that my daughter, Petunia, inherited almost every single thing from her father: big brown eyes, charisma, the ability make me laugh even if I’m angry… But from me, she inherited a very big love for animals, especially dogs. 

I have wanted to adopt a dog into our family since Petunia enjoyed Molly at birth, but life always seemed to conspire against us.  First I was working, and in graduate school, and no one could spend the time training a dog.  Then I was pregnant with our son Dash, and we thought it might be too much to add a dog to the family with a new baby coming on its heels.  Even when my parents had a chance to adopt one of Molly’s siblings for us, the timing just seemed off.

Last February, we added two guinea pigs, Oreo and Cinnamon, to our family, in part as an attempt to stave off the dog decision; they are wonderful pets, and both kids love them so much and are very gentle with them.  Instead of abating the kids’ desire for a dog, though, the piggies have heightened their interest in pets.  Petunia feels like she’s shown that she can care for them, and Dash has shown us that he is, actually, big enough to know how to be gentle.   We used to joke that we’re waiting to adopt a dog because Dash has to be old enough not to bite the dog.  He’s reached that age, so I’ve been researching dog breeds left and right, and I’ve narrowed down the list to a half-dozen or so.  Like the Obama family, our family has some allergy issues, so we have a preference for hypoallergenic dogs.  While the President-elect has indicated that he doesn’t want a “girlie dog,” I think I prefer small dogs so that, when we travel, the dog can come in the cabin of the plane with us.  To that end, my current favorites are the Cavachon and the Chacy Bear.  I excitedly waited for my husband, the Guv, to return home from work one night to show him the Chacy Bear, a dog created to help special needs children…

… and instead of commenting, “Cute,” or “Awwwww,” or “What breed is that?” he said, “Oh, God, please, no…”  The Guv grew up a cat person, and he married a dog person, and n’er the twain shall meet.

So The Dog Fight began again, and, so far, we’ve kept it friendly.  The Guv has some valid concerns.  He doesn’t want to have to walk a dog, especially if he has to poop-scoop.  He fears he’ll get “stuck” with the majority of the dog’s care.  To that point, aside from helping me change guinea pig cages every 1-2 weeks, he really provides no care for them unless I’m out of town – so I can’t see how life would be much different were a dog around, especially since I’m an at-home mom.  The Guv worries about dogs chewing on things, most especially how Dash will react if the dog chews on him.  He balks at the expense, as hypoallergenic dogs usually can’t be found in a rescue (though I’ll try!) and aren’t cheap, and he mentioned the concern that the dog might outlive the kids’ stay in our home.  That one makes me laugh, because I can’t imagine how quiet the house would be without something else there, and a dog seems like great company for times I’m sad to be empty-nesting. 

Usually, I’d say I’m not sure how this is going to come out, but this is one fight that I’m fairly determined to win.  I want my children to grow up with animals, and there is no companion quite like a dog.  When a boy makes Petunia cry for the first time, I hope she’ll want to talk to me about it; regardless, a pooch will lick those tears right away.  When Dash needs to run off some steam in the park, his furry friend can fetch balls for and chase him.  Perhaps I can even teach the dog to fight the monsters in Dash’s room so that he might sleep in his bed again someday.   But the first trick I think I’ll teach it is to fetch the Guv’s Wall Street Journal in the morning.  If there’s one thing I know, it’s that even our little guinea pigs figured out a way to make the Guv love them, so a dog will do the same.  It’s pretty hard to harden one’s heart against a furry ball of unconditional love who brings you your paper in the morning!  If only we could teach it to make coffee… 

This is an original post to the Silicon Valley Moms Blog by the animal-loving Roxane Dover, who dreams about moving back to a farm one day and keeping a whole menagerie.  When Rox isn’t surfing the web for that perfect dog, she’s writing about her family’s antics over at Rox and Roll.